Claimed

by Lindsay Buroker

  “I don’t know how useful they’ll be, but they were fun to make. You’ve heard of Eureka moments, right? Well, I slipped in some grease the other day and ended up on my backside. That gave me an idea.”

  “Interesting. When I fall on my backside, all that pops into my head are curses.”

  “Someone else said the same thing, but my mind works uniquely.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  “Say someone is chasing you, and you need a moment to get away. You can press this here...” Kali tapped an etching on the side of the sphere, “and these little nozzles—” she waved at the holes, “—will spew out a slick oil, enough to cover some stairs or a small landing. It’ll make the footing in that particular area as treacherous as walking across the river in January.”

  Cedar nodded, imagining the possibilities. “Thank you. These will be right helpful. And if your backside personally tested the oily one, I’m extra grateful.”

  “Nah, I used some drunk fellows in town as unwitting volunteers for that.”

  Cedar started to smile, but it disappeared when Kali added, “That’s when I first met Travis Andrews. He was being picked on for being new or well-dressed or something—I didn’t ask—and they were pawing him up with their muck forks. I figured they’d make fine volunteers.”

  “I imagine he was appreciative.” Cedar tried not to let any displeasure or disapproval into his tone. Kali could talk to other men; it didn’t mean anything.

  “He seemed a might chagrined at being rescued by a girl, but he was intrigued by the device.” Kali smiled. She wouldn’t take a compliment on her hair or her eyes or her figure—which was quite fine beneath the coveralls and men’s pants, as he knew from a rare night she had deigned to wear a dress—but when people showed an interest in her work, that was another story.

  That it was another man showing interest didn’t enthuse him, though he could see her brightness appealing to someone who wandered around with a pencil behind his ear. Cedar didn’t think this whelp was enough of a man yet to appeal to many women, but then again, Kali was only eighteen herself. Maybe she would be drawn to someone her age? At twenty-four, he wasn’t exactly ancient, but he had killed his first man at sixteen and didn’t imagine anyone had thought of him as young in a long time.

  Once again, Cedar made an effort to keep his tone neutral when he spoke. “How long have you known him? It’s not possible he’s sidling up to you for more than a story, is it?”

  “About a week now. I keep running into him when I go into town for supplies. The little newspaper office is on the same street as the mercantile store, and he sits outside a lot with his notepad, watching the people pass, he says.” Kali shrugged. “I’m not letting out any secrets or getting too close. I’ve learned my lesson about trusting folks.”

  “Yes, I believe you’re still deciding whether you trust me.”

  “On account of you greeting me with a passel of lies.” She waggled a finger at his nose, a waggling he deserved. He hadn’t had courting on his mind when he had shown up at her first tinkery in Moose Hollow. “And you’ve been secretive about your past too,” she added. “If you hadn’t saved my life six or seven times, I probably wouldn’t have given you a second chance.”

  “No need to get crotchical with me, Kali. I fully admit I’m not the easiest fellow to love.” Love? That wasn’t the word he’d meant to use. Trust or even tolerate, those would have been appropriate. Why had love slipped out? She’d never used that word with him, nor had he with her. He’d figured they would have time for that once they both finished their quests. It was the appearance of this Travis Andrews that had him feeling less sure of himself, less certain that she would happily wait for him to finish with Cudgel. They had made no promises to each other, nor promised never to send inviting smiles to others. But maybe they should. Just to keep things clear. And because he wanted to be... all that she wanted.

  “Uhm, Kali?”

  “Yes?”

  Cedar waffled. Maybe he should have rehearsed this. “I’ve been thinking that we get on tolerable well.” Oh, yes, those were courting words there. He huffed at himself and started again. “What I mean is—”

  Ding!

  Her head spun toward the front of the cave. “That’s Alarm Number Two.”

  “Might be your newspaper boy, wandering around lost, tripping over ferns,” Cedar said, but Kali was already running for the entrance and for the Winchester 1873 leaning against the stone wall.

  He sighed and strode after her. So much for suggestions of dedicated courtship.

  Kali also paused to pull a satchel over her shoulder, one bulging with tools and round bumps. Cedar wagered the smoke nuts she had made for him weren’t the only ones from her latest batch.

  They pushed aside the canvas door and stepped outside. Darkness had descended during the time he had been inside the cave, and the lights of Dawson sprawled below, visible between some of the trees—the deciduous varieties were already starting to lose their leaves.

  Kali didn’t ask for help, but Cedar slipped past her and led the way down the trail. She could take care of herself, but a man ought to make himself useful for a woman. Despite his size, he’d learned to trot through the forest without a sound, and he should be able to slip behind anyone approaching so Kali would be safe when she confronted the uninvited guest. It probably was the newspaper boy, but one never knew. Cedar’s heart sped up at the possibility that it might be one of Cudgel’s men. Kali had been the outlaw’s prisoner for a short time, and he knew she meant something to Cedar. Cedar had been staying as close as he could, given that he had to spend time hunting Cudgel himself, for he feared his nemesis might try to strike at him by kidnapping—or killing—Kali. As yet, though, she had been left alone.

  Foliage rustled on the trail ahead. Though his thoughts had wandered, Cedar had never taken his attention from his surroundings. Prepared for someone’s approach, he stepped into the undergrowth, the darkness hampering him little.

  A hint of daylight remained in the southwestern sky, enough for Cedar to make out a single figure striding up the winding path. There wasn’t enough light to make color distinguishable, but the hat on the man’s head—more of a pith helmet—had a familiar shape to it, so the dark outline of a rifle didn’t disturb Cedar overmuch. He decided not to call out, though. One couldn’t be too careful.

  He let the man pass and stepped out on the trail behind him.

  “That’s far enough,” came Kali’s voice from farther up the hill. On the brushy path, she couldn’t have seen Cedar taking a position behind the newcomer, but her timing was impeccable. “I’ve got a firearm on you, and it’ll remain there until you state your business.”

  The man stopped. Cedar kept an eye on his rifle, but he didn’t raise it. Careful not to commit his weight until he tested each step, Cedar drew nearer, until he could have touched the newcomer with his own rifle.

  “I’m Sergeant Tremblay of the North West Mounted Police,” the man said.

  Cedar recognized the deep voice and French accent. He had turned in enough heads of criminals to the NWMP headquarters that he recognized most of the men stationed there, but they usually waited until he came by if they needed him; none of them had ever approached Kali’s cave. Maybe the sergeant wasn’t here for him.

  “That’s your name, and I appreciate knowing it, but you’ll recall that it was your business that I asked on.” Kali wasn’t one to pussyfoot about an authority figure—or any figure for that matter. Cedar grinned.

  “Yes, ma’am,” the sergeant said, not revealing if her dryness irked him. “I’m looking for Kali McAlister and Cedar about... It’s work related. I’d like to discuss it in private. The coyotes talk.”

  The introduction was enough that Cedar was ready to speak with the man, but he waited to see if Kali would invite him up to her cave or tell him he could say his piece from the middle of the trail. She mulled it over for a moment before answering.

  “Cedar?” she called. “This
fellow sound right?”

  “Yes, I recognize him.”

  Tremblay jumped, though he kept himself from spinning about, rifle raised. Cedar would have had to disarm him if he had, and that might have led to hard feelings, so he was pleased not to have to do so. Given that the United States law wanted him arrested—or dead—he would prefer to keep the Mounties as allies.

  “Follow me, then,” Kali said. “It’s not a good idea to wander about unescorted up here.” After a few steps, she poked a stick into the brush. The snap of a bear trap clanging shut rang out.

  “Understood, ma’am.”

  Cedar grinned again. There might be more than one reason that Cudgel hadn’t tried to harass Kali up here yet.

  They walked up the hill and into the cave, blinking at the return to light. Tremblay paused inside the entrance to gape at the ship taking shape, along with the first engine, a work in progress, that lay on canvas beside it. Kali would have to move the airship out to attach the yet-to-be-sewn balloon—and complete the assembly, but it was already an impressive craft.

  “I’d heard about that,” Tremblay said. “She’ll be a pretty ship, eh?”

  “Pretty?” Kali asked. “She’ll be fast and functional. That’s what counts.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Tremblay turned and found Cedar standing behind him.

  “What’s this about, Sergeant?”

  Even with the hat, the Mountie lacked his height. He was tidier, though, with his pressed uniform and riding boots, neither with more than a few smudges of mud, and those having most likely been acquired on the walk up the hill. Cedar always wondered at the practicality of the boots, given that there were something like ten horses in all of Dawson. The Chilkoot Pass wasn’t terribly friendly to hoofed creatures, nor was there much to recommend it for humans, either. Cedar could understand why a lot of people might be eager to have an airship servicing the town, though he’d have to ask Kali more about that idea later. It had been his understanding that she wanted to escape the North and see the world, not start a freight service.

  “Trouble out on Bonanza Creek.” Tremblay shifted to put his back to the wall, so he could face both of them. The cave might claim all manner of projects, but there was a dearth of furniture. Two wobbly stumps stood alone as seating options. “We’ve gone sniffing about, but people aren’t interested in talking to the law.” His lips thinned. “Or they’re too afraid to talk to the law.”

  “Afraid of what?” Cedar asked. “Claim jumpers?”

  Kali leaned against the wall, seemingly saying she would leave the conversation to the men. There was a faint crinkle to her brow, as if she wondered why she’d been sought out for what sounded like work for Cedar.

  Tremblay made a wavering motion with his hand. “That, always, but folks have always been fine running up to us to report them, often when there’s not a thing to report except some noises in the woods. The more gold a man finds, the more twitchy he gets about noises, and sometimes they aren’t even there, eh?”

  Cedar offered a get-to-the-point grunt. He had only spoken with Tremblay a couple of times in the past but was starting to remember his chatty nature.

  “You’ve probably heard that the creek’s starting to pan out,” the sergeant went on. “At least one fellow has pulled quite a few ounces out of his claim. There’s talk saying the whole area is going to be full of rich veins. But people are selling their claims left and right.”

  “Oh?”

  “At low prices too. And they’re getting resold here in town. One went for fifty thousand dollars.”

  “For an unproved claim?” Kali asked. “That’s unheard of, isn’t it? Though prices are ridiculous here. I heard a plot of land on Front Street went for over five thousand last week.”

  “It was a proved claim,” Tremblay said. “Which makes it worth more, but also makes you wonder why the owners would sell it.”

  “Maybe they heard how rough winters are here,” Cedar said.

  Tremblay shrugged. “With their earnings, they would have been able to afford even exorbitant prices for supplies. If this had only happened one time, I might think nothing of it. Certainly someone could feel they’d found enough to make their year worth it and head back south before winter came, but this is the seventh claim to sell at an exorbitant price. I happened to run into one of the former sellers, and he was in rags with his ribs showing. He didn’t look like a man who’d just made a fortune. I did some digging and found that all of these claims had been sold to the Honest and Earnest Holding Company. They didn’t report what they paid, nor are they required to by law, but they’re certainly getting top dollar when they resell them. I couldn’t find out who was behind the company locally, either, as the owner on record is a Stanislaw Miazga in Skagway.”

  “Skagway,” Cedar said, “is known for being overrun with the criminal element.”

  “It’s not part of our country,” Tremblay said, as if that explained everything. Maybe it did. No doubt the Americans were too busy sending Pinkertons after wrongfully accused men to clean up their frontier towns.

  “Regardless, the company has someone handling business here, but we can’t find out who. As I said, the civilians are refusing to talk to us. This is why I came to you.”

  “Because my handsome face naturally invites people to share their secrets?” Cedar asked without humor. He didn’t want anything to do with a job that would take them miles outside of town again, not until he found Cudgel.

  “Confess their secrets, maybe,” Kali said.

  Tremblay spread a hand. “You’ve proven resourceful.” He nodded toward Kali. “Both of you. Without knowledge of the exact crime and who’s behind it, if there is indeed a crime at all, we can’t offer any bounties, but my captain is willing to at least compensate you for going out there.”

  Kali slumped. She didn’t appear any more enthused about this mission than Cedar. But saying no to the Mounties wasn’t a good idea. The day might come soon when Cedar needed a favor or two. They had already been looking the other way at some of the privacy-invading snooping he had been doing, not to mention the handful of men he had left with black eyes after questioning them.

  “I’ll look into it,” Cedar said.

  “And will you as well, ma’am?” Tremblay asked.

  Kali’s eyes narrowed. “Why me? I have work I need to finish before winter comes.”

  “I believe the people out there, especially if they’re scared, may be more likely to speak with a woman. There are a handful of wives working the claims. You may be able to establish a rapport with them.”

  Cedar scratched his jaw. “If I weren’t so self-assured, I’d be certain he just said I was too rough and ominous-looking to establish a rapport with a woman.”

  “Intimidating was the word I was thinking of,” Tremblay said.

  Kali pointed at the sergeant. “I’m starting to like him.”

  “Does this mean you’ll accept the mission?”

  Kali considered her craft and sighed again. “I suppose I can get Tadzi and Kéitlyudee to oversee the work for a couple of days.”

  “Good.” Tremblay tipped his hat. “The Mounties appreciate your assistance.”

  “They better,” Kali muttered.

  Cedar walked beside Kali as they headed out to show the sergeant back to the trail.

  “Will you be packing a blanket of your own this time?” he murmured, referring to the last time they had headed up one of these rivers after criminals. “Or will you be devoting all of your bag space to tools again?”

  “I don’t know. Tools are important. How willing are you to invite me back into your fancy all-in-one blanket-bed? Has it been... repaired?”

  “Stitched and patched more often than frontline Civil War soldiers, yes.” Cedar wondered if this trip might provide the chance he wanted to discuss courting matters. “We would have to impose a no-shrapnel-weapons-in-bed rule though.”

  “Hm, no explosions either?”

  “Ah.” So many responses came
to mind and so few of them appropriate to utter in a woman’s company. “That topic could be discussed further.” Cedar winced, wishing he’d come up with a more clever response. He should have risked inappropriateness.

  “I see. This could prove interesting then.” They had left the cave, and it was too dark to see the expression on Kali’s face, but there was a teasing note to her words. “Or eventful. I imagine you’ve already considered that your Cudgel might be behind this claim-buying scheme?”

  A tingle of energy zipped through his body, lighting anticipation in his heart. He hadn’t considered that, but as soon as she said it, he knew he should have. This could be exactly the sort of scheme that would appeal to someone like him, someone who would rather trick people than work for himself.

  “Pack as many tools and weapons as you like,” Cedar said. “If we chance across him, I might be willing to drop my no-shrapnel-weapons-in-bed rule.”

  Kali found his hand in the darkness. “Oh, I don’t know. Now you’ve got me thinking about explosions.”

  Cedar’s breath caught. This trip might offer far more than he had hoped.

  Part II

  Clouds scudded across the sky, creating moving shadows amongst the evergreens edging the gravel and dirt of the creek. Cedar kept his eyes on their surroundings as they rolled up to the first claims along Bonanza Creek on Kali’s SAB—self-automated bicycle. It rumbled and clanked over the gravel, navigating the terrain without trouble. She had made a few improvements to it since their last outing and promised it would take more than airship pirates to derail them again.

  Complex systems of wooden chutes and troughs lined the hills where the trees had been cut back. Farther from the water, tents, shacks, and one-room log cabins had been built, but all of the people in sight were by the creek, working hard to pan and shovel water and gravel. In the distance, plumes of smoke promised claims with more sophisticated steam-powered mining equipment.